


Resurrection

by ASiriusAuthor (KkGgINoU), KkGgINoU



Series: Reformation [2]
Category: Odd Squad (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22628080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KkGgINoU/pseuds/ASiriusAuthor, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KkGgINoU/pseuds/KkGgINoU
Summary: ...And things may or may not be alright.
Series: Reformation [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1627915
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

He didn't mean to make Dr. O's pants explode. He didn't. Honest. It was a knee-jerk reaction. Although... Otis's kneejerk reactions didn't _normally_ mean that someone's pants exploded, but... you know, it could have been a whole lot worse, in retrospect. It wasn't as if he made _Dr. O_ explode, right? It was just her pants. Pants were replaceable. Agents weren't.

Of course, it wasn't as if Otis had been in mortal danger, anyways.

It had been a normal (normal? Puh-lease.) check-up when it happened. Dr. O made it a priority to officially make sure everyone was medically A-OK every six months, so... it was kind of a big deal. Otis just happened to land himself in the thick of it. At least, that's what he told himself. He had only been there for a little while, but the clock had ticked down, and everyone had to be given an examination to test for odd illnesses that slipped under the radar.

Usually it wasn't very awkward, he was told. After all, Dr. O only had to take a few readings and she was done.

Still- since no one but Miss O knew about Otis's... condition, and he had deduced that his powers would show up on the medical reader, and that made him edgy. Furthermore, whenever he got nervous or excited, the energy had a bad habit of spiking in time with his pulse. So, you know, extra horrible.

When he sat down, he was practically hyperventilating. It only would take a small amount of unnatural energy to read on Dr. O's instruments, so with all the stress and panic, he might as well have had a huge, light-up sign over his head that read, "YOLO, everybody, I'm a Weirdo; take me away in handcuffs, please!"

So, when she brought the little reader near, the instruments began screeching, his pulse spiked, and his energy nearly became visible as it wreathed around his entire body.

"What... Lock down headqaurters, this is a _medical emergency_!"

In order to understand his quandary, you must first have a bit of... understanding of magic, if you will. In all reality, Otis was less of a superhero, and more of a conduit. He could use his powers at will, but over time, his powers would build up, and the results were like a surge at a power plant. So, he also had to use his powers regularly to somewhat deplete the surge. If he didn't, it could very well lead to a genuine explosion.

The energy build-up could be attributed to his own actions as well. For example, if he were ready for a blast of energy, and yet never used it... He never even wanted to _try_ that one.

In both concept and engendered embarrassment, it was somewhat like... Wetting the bed. If one was simply sleeping, it usually wouldn't happen and you can go the whole night without an accident. However, upon being scared silly for some potentially mundane reason in the middle of the night, one was likely to do it.

Usually, his powers would only gradually build up, and he could easily alleviate the excess through small, benign tasks (like lifting juice boxes, or stacks of files). But if he didn't alleviate it... Bad things could happen.

See, the energy buildup was almost proportionate to the damage that could be caused by unleashing such energy in a small room. Which made him apprehensive about simply letting the surge ravage the room, and potentially a sizable portion of headquarters.

Still, a powerful, directed blast was better than an outright explosion (he had nearly lost his powers that way, and it had _hurt_ ).

So Otis focused on the nearest thing he could think of that was the most likely to spontaneously combust, and wouldn't hurt anyone outside when it did. Unfortunately, his target of choice was Dr. O's pants. In retrospect, he probably could have picked better, but what was done was done.

Therefore, if you can imagine the power capable of obliterating several rooms destroying someone's pants, that was a pretty good estimate of what happened. Luckily, Otis was able to direct the blast outward, so that Dr. O would receive barely a single singe or a scratch when her pants exploded.

The rest of the room wasn't quite so lucky. There was black soot covering the walls, and pieces of singed fabric lying around. Some of the equipment survived the exploding pants, but enough of it didn't.

After Dr. O's pants exploded... Well, things kind of went _downhill_ from there.

He fled the smoking room, coughing and regretting his choice, only to be met by about a dozen security agents standing outside, waiting for him. Of course they were. You couldn't swing a dead cat without Security knowing. And, quite frankly, Owen wasn't the nicest of people when it came to his job.

The security force was fully armed with stun rifles, helmets, armor, riot shields- the whole works. And they were all pointed at him. _Fantastic_.

So, he did what any normal (normal?) person would do. His survival instincts involuntarily kicked in as he let loose a blast of bright gold energy that knocked half of the force down.

And they shot him. Or, at least- they tried. It was difficult for them. Being... unfortunately _experienced_ with such events, he was accustomed to it, and did not succumb to the stun charges. Energy wreathed around his entire body as he threw security officers against the wall, and the entire office descended into anarchy... You know, kind of like having a miniature sun in the middle of headquarters. He caught a glimpse of himself in the glass of the ball pit.

He was practically glowing with the energy that flew around him in chaotic winds and allowed him to float in the air... but he didn't quite look like himself of yesteryear. His former self was a _lot_ scarier.

Suddenly his gaze was pulled away from his own reflection to see his partner, trying to walk towards him through the glowing winds...

If Olympia hadn't been so terrified, she would have thought the entire event was so, so _cool_! Here Otis was- making things fly around and smash other stuff... actually, that was pretty bad. But still, her partner could fly and make things and—whoop!—she ducked to avoid a flying potted plant.

"Otis!" She shouted to him, in an attempt to get his attention away from Owen, who was screaming like a bloody murder as energy flew around him and lifted him off the ground...

"What?" Otis made eye contact with Olympia. His voice was hollow and unnatural-sounding, even to his own ears.

"Let Owen go- I just want to talk with you."

Otis's brow furrowed as he thought.

"Otis, you're better than this! You don't make oddness; you're like...one of the _least odd people I know_!"

Otis nearly laughed aloud, and Owen fell five feet, unceremoniously, to the floor. "I guess you don't know many people, then. Because I'm about as odd as it gets." He gave a little snarl upon realizing that Owen had by this time scrambled away.

" _Titus_!" His gaze turned from Owen, to Miss O's office that was only slightly higher than he was at this point.

"I... _I'm sorry, Oprah_ ," he said, his echoing voice despondent. A bit more level: "I guess people really don't change. I tried. I really did."

" _Otis_ ," Olympia yelled from the floor. "You can still make this all better! Just come back down, we can talk this all out! We don't want to hurt you!"

"Move, Olympia... It's the only way," shouted a voice from behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see Oscar carrying two strange-looking gadgets, and a...

"DUCK!" Otis nearly screamed, and dropped unceremoniously to the floor, any traces that anything had happened were almost completely gone. He was breathing hard, but he wasn't glowing anymore. Furthermore, his body seemed to be still trying to summon the golden energy, but couldn't quite get a hold on it.

The duck in Oscar's arms merely quacked in response to the whole ordeal.

Oscar set the duck on the ground, and approached Otis, bearing one of the gadgets. "Handcuffinator," he said simply, almost sorrowful.

A pair of metal handcuffs appeared on Otis's wrists, locking his hands behind his back. Otis shook his head, still stunned, "I don't think those are going to hold me if I wig out again..."

Oscar sighed. "I don't, either. Which is why I have this, too. I'm... I'm really sorry." He slowly pulled out the other gadget, and knelt down beside Otis.

Otis attempted to turn to look up at him. "Sorry? Sorry about what?" And then he felt it. Cold metal latched around his neck, draining the energy away.

"De-magic-inator."

...

He had never felt so humiliated in his life. The handcuffs were bad enough, but a collar? It was like Belarus all over again.

_"Please, I've told you everything I can, just let me go! Stop, it hurts!... STOP!..."_

He wasn't sure he would be able to deal with something like that again.

In a sudden panic, he tried to call upon his magic again, but the collar siphoned it away just out of reach as soon as he did. The more he called, the more it drained.

Otis tried to sit up, at least... he edged his legs under himself and tried to lift himself upwards. Which, he promptly regretted as the room spun around him and he slumped back down on the floor.

He laid there for a few moments as everyone just milled around, trying to figure out _what just happened?_ and even more important, what to do about it.

Otis had a good enough idea what they were considering doing about it, and he didn't like it. Surprise, surprise, he was odd, just like always. He'd get kicked off the Squad, or maybe even stuck in his own special room at Odd Squad, like a robot princess. Which was really another way of saying solitary confinement. He was done with getting stuck in a place he didn't want to be and had no business being... But that collar. It was hard enough not to sick all over the floor, much less flee from likely his _former_ friends like a bat outta Hades.

Miss O walked down to them... to him, and knelt down just as Owen and his security team recovered and were beginning to cautiously encroach again.

He looked up at her, at a loss for words. Maybe the collar took them away, too...

"I'm sorry, Ti. I really am. But my hands are tied. Not with licorice strands, I mean."

Otis simply averted his gaze. A big part of their deal of him staying at Odd Squad was that he couldn't let his powers get out of control, even if he did get them all back. Even if he did it subconsciously, he'd been the one who broke the deal... He'd broken the deal.

He was so disoriented and lost in thought that he barely heard Miss O talking to Owen about "Emergency Measures".

Somehow still, even as they carried Otis away, down the hallway to presumably some sort of cell (what did he say. He knew them all-too-well.), he had never felt so alive. So... so ready. And never before in his life had it felt like he was holding his breath, just... just waiting for something to happen... He felt them quite literally throw him into a room, then shut the door, which, by the sound of the lock, was more like the door to a _safe_ than a mop closet.

He sat up against the wall in the dark room and smiled slightly... Even with the collar, which made him feel awful, he had never been able to access that much magic since the accident—it was encouraging. Like being able to finally wiggle fingers after getting your hand stomped on. Maybe it was recovery. Maybe it was redemption.

Maybe it was Resurrection.


	2. Resurgence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK. SO.
> 
> Life has taken a drastic turn.
> 
> In the time that I sorta stopped working on this, I went to college, dropped out of college, started a job, quit the job, and finally I'm…. I'm here. Life has thrown me a dozen curveballs and I only hit about half of them, I'm fighting horrible depression, and life is just generally unremarkable at this point.
> 
> Also: Please do keep in mind that this was written pre-aired-backstory for Otis. I wrote this story, years ago. So… yeah I haven't watched Odd Squad in a very long time and have just recently, only sort of caught up. I… uh… have tried to retcon some to make it more tangible, and add ducks, but the main premise of the story stays untouched...

He sat there for a very long time. He wasn't certain how long that it was exactly, but he knew it was a _long_ time.

They'd stunned him again and de-handcuffed him, and left him in the cell with his civilian clothes. He was sure he heard Owen and maybe Ohlm outside his door…and he was reminded how much he disliked Owen and Ohlm. 

They gave him food through a slot, and took the plate back out the same way… like a dog door, almost, and it was humiliating. The collar couldn't be unlocked or broken—Oscar would have to take it off, eventually. Otis (or, he guessed, Titus) just wasn't certain when exactly that would happen. He wanted it to be soon.

The room he was in was dark and small. Not uncomfortably so, but it wasn't fantastic either. It reminded him too much of darker days—days when the light was unbearable, and the night didn't end. This cell he was in, was probably… oh, nine feet by nine feet, he would guess. It was big enough that he could sleep on the hard floor with little difficulty, as opposed to curled up on the grate of a cage.

He had no idea how long he was there. He had a number of meals, though they seemed to arrive irregularly and at off hours. He noticed his clothing beginning to wear thin and torn, and his hair wasn't kept neat and trim… In fact, it felt matted and greasy, and he was certain he looked like a mess. He looked… undignified, like an animal. That was something he couldn't accept. But it was also something he couldn't change. 

Titus was alone here, more alone than he'd ever been before. Even during Belarus, he'd not been this alone, and he hated it. Olympia… dear, dear Olympia. She was his best friend in the whole world… and he'd spoiled everything. It was an accident, he swore it was. He hadn't meant to hurt anyone, he hadn't meant to destroy headquarters, it just happened. 

Maybe it was instinctual. Maybe he couldn't change it, no matter how hard he tried to. That was a discouraging thought, and when he'd first had it, he'd curled up in a corner and cried himself to sleep…

And then one day, just when he was beginning to doubt—just when he was beginning to wonder if this was Belarus all over again, there was a knock on the door...

"Otis? Otis, it's me, Olympia!"

He sat against the door, and smiled. "Hi, Olympia."

"Otis!" The muffled voice came, "Thank goodness I found you! I've been looking all over for you and Miss O wouldn't tell me where you were and she made _Ohlm_ my partner and I can't get any work done at all because I keep having to make sure Ohlm doesn't get into trouble and I miss you because you're my best friend and such a good agent and I _can't believe I finally found you because I've been yelling at every door in every hallway for two months_!"

Titus gave a tiny smile… he couldn't exactly stop her, and all things considering, since there had been no one else here for so long, it was kind of nice to have someone visit.

"It's good to see you too, Olympia," he said wistfully, wishing for a moment that he could just see _his_ partner face to face. He could just imagine the grin on her face 

"What's wrong, Otis? You sound sad."

"I… I don't feel well, Olympia. The de-magic-inator collar… I don't feel well." He didn't tell her that he'd been sick at least thrice since he'd gotten here, and that he knew he couldn't stand up straight for fear of being sick again.

"I'm sorry, Otis," Olympia said softly, and he could almost see her face fall as her voice got quieter.

He gave a tiny smile, before he grimaced slightly. "You, don't need to feel bad. It's kind of my fault anyways, so don't feel bad."

There was just silence on the other side of the door, and Titus halfway wondered if he'd scared her away somehow… He didn't mean to do that. He didn't mean to do a lot of things. He shifted, and groaned when his stomach lurched. "Olympia? Are you still here?"

"Yeah, yeah I am," Olympia said, her voice almost unintelligible, and he couldn't tell what was going on beyond the door…. Then he heard a wet sniffle and a sigh. He looked down slightly.

"Olympia… don't, don't cry. Please don't cry, I—"

" _I'M NOT CRYING._ "

He stopped a moment, and gnawed on his lip again, as the quiet sobs passed across the doorframe.

"I'm sorry for everything that happened," he said finally. "Is everyone alright?"

Another wet sniffle. "Yeah, everything is fine," Olympia said, her voice falsely energetic.

"Olympia…"

"It's true! It's like everyone just forgot about what happened, as if you don't exist anymore, or something!"

Titus smiled slightly. "Maybe that's for the best."

"NO, it's _not_! Don't say something like that!"

Titus laid down slightly on the floor, his head reeling. "You… you really don't know much about me, do you," he mumbled.

A beat.

"Well… I mean, just because I don't really know much yet, doesn't mean we can't still be best friends?"

"Does it?... You don't know what I am."

"You… You're my friend. That's what matters, right? I mean, maybe you're different from most, but that's okay, we can't all be the same, we all have different skillsets and that's a good thing to have at Odd Squad," Olympia said quickly, as if trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince him.

Titus settled on the ground, fighting waves of dizziness that rolled over him. "If you say so."

"Yes, in fact, I _do_ say so!" There was a click of a bolt, and Otis saw a crack of blinding light as the door he'd been leaning against opened. 

He turned slightly, still trying not to be sick, and suddenly felt arms wrap around him.

"I'm not letting you go again," she said firmly as she pulled him upwards to lean against her, and he struggled to not be boneless. "You're my best friend, and best friends don't leave each other.

He blinked his eyes as he looked up at her… And promptly fell asleep.

…

"MOM, DAD, I'M HOME!"

"Hi, honey! How was work today?"

"Well, I found Otis, and—"

"OH MY GOODNESS."

"Mom, it's not as bad as it looks!..."

...

Olympia knew to count herself lucky. She was one of the few kids who still had parents. Still, sometimes having parents made work difficult, because you couldn't show up with an emaciated friend of yours whom you'd just gotten back from a jail cell, and take care of them and call it a day. No, you had to explain what was going on (even though most adults didn't understand oddness anyways).

Still, she kept Otis at her house for a couple of weeks. She got him a new change of clothes, and began to try to think up a re-magic-inator. Inventions weren't really her skillset but she'd try anything once. She got really close at least twice to breaking the collar… but never got quite there.

Otis, meanwhile, was actually getting fed meals, courtesy of her parents, and he started looking a little healthier. He got a haircut, and was happier than a clam to be able to shower.

Olympia liked seeing Otis happy… She liked seeing him be _normal_ , since it seemed like even he was determined to convince her that he wasn't….

…

"Otis… Otis isn't my real name, Olympia. You don't know me—you don't even know my real name."

"W-well, maybe I wouldn't mind learning it. That's what friends are for, right? Even if something unexpected happens, it's okay."

...

_"YOU CAN UNDERSTAND ME. I KNOW YOU CAN. STOP! PLEASE!"_

_…_

"I… My name is Titus."

"Titus?... That's a nice name… and do you have a last name, or?..."

"It's just _Titus_."

"Oh. Okay."

_..._

_"... You, are_ **_horrible_ ** _. I can't believe, people like you actually exist."_

_…_

"... Is it okay if I still call you Otis?"

"... Yes, Olympia, it _is_ okay if you still want to call me Otis… What's so funny?"

"We're _bonding_!"

_..._

_"Let me_ **_go_ ** _! If you have_ **_any_ ** _humanity left… PLEASE let me GO!"_

…

"... Yeah, Olympia. I guess we are…"

...

"So, I… Oscar mentioned that you never went to the Academy."

"I didn't."

"Any particular reason _why_? I mean, you know, only if you want to share, of course, because you know even if we are bonding it's important to maintain healthy boundaries for ourselves and an understanding of those boundaries to make sure that no one… gets… hurt… I'm talking too much, aren't I?"

"Uh… Little bit?"

" _Sorry_ … Uh… Do you mind telling me why you didn't go to the Academy?"

"I… helped Miss O solve a very Odd case… she offered me a deal."

"You solve cases, and she'd sort of cover for you, right?"

"... Right."

…

"So, uh… what are you planning on doing now, Otis?"

If he were honest, he didn't know how this was going to continue. He had no idea how long this refuge would last. He had no idea if he'd be able to return to Odd Squad…. for that matter, he had no idea what would happen if Miss O lost control of the X's and Odd Squad hunted him down again. He didn't know what he would do then, because Odd Squad was global and there was just nowhere to hide.

Olympia, ever the optimist, had encouraged him that even if Odd Squad came for him, she'd help him, because they were partners, and friends, and that's what friends do—help each other. He'd protested that she'd lose her job at Odd Squad… That made her pause, but she'd steeled herself and made the offer again… And somehow, he knew for a fact that she meant it. 

A month in, and they still hadn't sorted out how to get the collar off. He still suffered from bad dizzy spells, and he couldn't do much in the way of running around… but for some reason, he actually felt stronger. He felt… uninhibited. Sure, he had the equivalent of a dog collar that drained him of his abilities and sometimes made him throw up at a moment's notice, but unlike before, he knew he had someone hitting for him. He knew he had his partner, who would follow him to the edge of the world and back… And even though he couldn't get so much as a flicker of Magic to leave his fingertips… 

Somehow, he could sense that this was the beginning of something _big…_ Something _important_. Somehow, he knew that things were stirring in the ancient depths of Magic, the likes of which he'd scarcely seen in hundreds and hundreds of years… and yet it was there.

_Resurgence_.


End file.
